More Than The Sun
by Elle018
Summary: Third time's the charm for Rick Castle, father.


**Hour One**

He shoots up in bed, adrenaline battling off the bone-deep exhaustion, suddenly conscious of the woman tensing up next to him, curled on her side, hands on her abdomen, breathing deeply.

"Kate? What is it? Kate! Is it…?"

She breathes out. "Not yet."

"Are you sure?"

"I've done this before, Rick."

"I know, but…"

"It's too early. They'd send me home."

"I'd pay them off."

She smirks at that. He would. Well, he would try anyway. But she would stop him. It is not in her nature to make a fuss. Not for herself anyway. If it was for someone she loved, well, then that would be a different story. But she doesn't need his extraordinary measures now. She _has_ done this before. She read everything she could get her hands on the first time around. And she read it all again now, just for good measure, just in case anything had changed in the last three and a half years. But, no, she knows her body. She knows what it's telling her. She's prepared, she's ready. But it's not time yet.

"Not yet. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you."

He falls back into his pillow, succumbing to the relief of relaxing his aching back and neck, but eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. "Okay," he says, relenting. But his mind is whirring. Excited. Anxious. Eager to meet this new baby.

Last time, they had found out ahead of time. A baby girl. "A sister!" Alexis had grinned. But this time, Kate had wanted to wait. "Whatever you want," he had told her quietly. But he couldn't bring himself to ask if it was because she was afraid it wasn't a boy. He knew it didn't matter to her. But he worried she thought it might matter to _him_.

He could admit to daydreams of a son. He was so blessed, so _so _lucky to have two girls to dote on, to play laser tag with, to play Barbies with, to build forts and bake cookies, to play soccer with in the park. But sometimes he gave in to visions of a boy, a son.

What he wants though, more than anything, is to get through this quickly. For his wife to bear as little pain as possible. For his baby to join the family safely. Soon.

**Hour Three:**

This time he wakes not on a jolt of adrenaline, but from a gradually increasing awareness that she is gone. He never sleeps well without her anymore, spoiled by her presence for too long now. Before opening his eyes, his hand reaches out to her side and he feels the warm, wrinkled sheets, feels her absence.

"Kate?" he calls.

"Out here," she answers.

She is walking, treading a deliberate path from one end of his office to the other. He appears in the doorway, observes her pacing for a moment. She stops at the end of his desk, bending forward, pressing her hands into the wood.

"Castle, can you…?"

She stops, sucks in a breath, head down. He's behind her in an instant, hands spread at her lower back, applying gentle pressure.

"How's this?" he asks lowly.

He takes her silence, her continued deep breathing, as approval.

**Hour Five:**

"Tell me a story."

She needs a distraction. They're getting there. She wants her body to take over on instinct. She doesn't want to overthink it. She's so eager to be done, not to end the pain, but to reach the finish. No, she sees the pain for what it is – necessary, a means to an end. And oh, the end. The glorious, glorious end. She thinks back three and a half years. She sees that hospital room in her mind's eye. Sees herself in a white and blue gown, sweat-matted hair, as the tiny, squalling babe was placed in her arms, on her chest. The pain forgotten, incomparable to the explosion she felt in her heart. Oh, that end.

"I think –" she starts. She suddenly realizes that he had been complying with her command, spinning her a story of a family of superheros, rambling about invisibility and flying through clouds. He had looked up at her interruption, locks eyes with her.

"I think it's time," she finishes. "Now."

**Hour Seven: **

They are finally settled in a room. Well, settled might be a stretch. She is moving slowly but constantly, sure of herself, listening to her body's cues. He is still – at her side when she needs him – but otherwise perched in a chair, like a statue, chin on the knuckles of his clasped hands, elbows on his knees, eyes focused, tracing her, at the ready. But inside, his heart gallops. He can tell she's close. He remembers.

_She had been gripping his hand, eyes clenched shut. He coached her with soothing words, "You can do this. You are so strong. You've got this, Kate. Kate, you've got this," over and over again. But he knew the words were for him, that he needed to praise and support her however he could. He knew she couldn't hear him, that she was in another place._

_Suddenly her eyes had snapped open. "No, I can't. I can't. Castle, I—I miss her. I need her. I can't." She'd started to sob, gasping for breath, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. His heart ached but before he could find words to correct her, to brace her, the doctor spoke._

"_She's right here, Kate. I need you to take a deep breath and give me a few more pushes. You _are_ doing this. You're doing it right now. She's almost here."_

_Castle squeezed, pouring his love and strength into her through their gripped hands. The next few minutes passed in a blur of drawn out time, in a haze of silent Please Gods running endlessly through his head, in primal sounds he didn't even think she knew she was making._

_With one last growl, the doctor was catching, wiping, suctioning and then, then – his whole world changed._

He comes back to the present. Her water breaks with a whoosh. He calls for a nurse.

**Hour Nine: **

"Push, Kate! _Push_," the doctor instructs.

Like déjà vu, the next few minutes unfold before him. A little quicker this time and with a little less of that heartbreaking self-doubt. He whispers the same words in her ear, letting her clench his fingers in her fist, hears the same familiar sounds come from deep within.

One last squeeze of his hand, one last bearing down, one last push, and the doctor is repeating those same ministrations, but this time with a quick glance, announcing…

"It's a girl!"

Kate's body sags back against the pillows, letting out a half-sob, half-laugh, arms grasping to the slippery newborn, clutching her to her chest. "Oh, baby girl," she chants, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

**Hour Eleven:**

She wakes with a start, arms empty, tensing immediately at the absence of a warm weight on her chest. Eyes darting left and right, until she sees him, and oh –

He sits in the chair to her left, baby bundled in his lap, stretched in front of him, her small head cradled in his stacked palms. His eyes are locked on her newborn face, memorizing the features. Hot tears are streaming down his cheeks.

"Castle, are you…? Rick?" she asks. The tiniest trace of fear laces her words.

"I just –" he starts. He looks up to his wife, feels his heart brimming up through his chest, choking the words in his throat, flooding his cheeks.

"I just love her so much."


End file.
